Vince Yamamoto, Governor Itashi’s press secretary and a former Army sergeant, led the hostages into the woodlands. They stopped about five hundred yards down the hill in a clump of cedar trees.
“Governor, I suggest we stay here for the rest of the night. Then I’ll slip back up to the camp and see if I can find out what’s going on. The Chinese there came under attack by someone. Maybe Marines or Army troops. They should be able to rout them now that the Chinese have lost their commander.”
“Sounds good, Vince. Tell the others. We’ll try to stay warm as best we can. This ten-thousand-foot altitude seems a lot colder out here in the open. Is there any way we can have a fire?”
Harry Chung, the governor’s executive assistant, heard them talking and stepped up with a small cigarette lighter. “Our Chinese friends missed this in my shirt pocket when they searched us that first day,” he said. “I’ll find some firewood and shield the flames from the top so no one will be able to see it.”
Ten minutes later Chung had a small fire going, and they took turns at warming themselves. He made the fire larger gradually, until they could use three sides of it for warmth.
They didn’t talk about the Chinese. Sara had told them that she had surprised Lieutenant Hing and stabbed him with her hat pin, then grabbed his pistol and shot him. After that, the subject was closed. Chung had cleaned and bandaged the governor’s leg wound. It would need medical attention soon.
The governor warmed his hands over the fire. They hadn’t taken time to grab the jackets they had brought to the camp. Most of them were in shirts and blouses.
“Hey, people,” the governor said. “We’ll be all right now. Harry’s fire has saved the day. This was supposed to be a rugged, challenging experience. I didn’t plan on it being this tough. In the morning, Vince will slip back up the hill and find out what’s going on. If the Marines landed and have whipped the Chinese, we’ll chopper out of here within two hours.
“Hey, it’s a little after one A.M., which means we have only half the night to go. We can do this standing on our heads.”
The others murmured their agreement. Sara shivered. She wanted to run to the governor and hug him until he gave up and kissed her. She had been wanting him for so long. They had touched, and twice he had given her shoulder hugs for a job well done.
Each time she had been so thrilled she couldn’t talk. All of her tough professionalism had melted into sticky goo in twenty seconds. She looked at him and saw he had been watching her. She moved around the fire and wedged in beside him.
“Can I share some of your fire?”
“We have plenty. Help yourself.”
As she edged in, her hip touched his and neither of them moved. No one noticed it in the firelight. Sara felt a surge of emotion she had difficulty holding in. She looked up at him, and he was watching her.
“Yes, Sara, stay close,” he whispered so no one else could hear. His smile deepened. He went on in the whisper. “We’re all so proud of you. We know it must have been tremendously difficult… with the gun. I’m so proud of you I could kiss you.”
She wanted to whisper right back to him something witty like: “I’ll take a rain check,” or maybe: “Hey, kiss me once and kiss me twice and kiss me once again,” like the song. She only pressed her hip harder against his and nodded, her eyes brimming with tears of wonder and joy. Why couldn’t he tell she was in love with him? Watching him now and feeling the wonder of the fire’s heat, she thought that maybe he did but he didn’t want any Clintonesque problems. Oh, damn.
“Governor, I’ll take a rain check on that kiss until after we’re rescued and I’m warm enough to enjoy it.” She had whispered it up at him so only he could hear.
Surprise flooded his face, and then his marvelous grin came. Oh, but how she loved that grin. “A deal,” he whispered back. Then he put both hands out to the warmth of the fire.
Somewhere above they heard rifle and other small-arms fire.
“Machine guns,” Vince said. “Somebody up there is getting the hell shot out of them.”
“Let’s hope it’s our side doing the shooting,” the governor said.
Murdock grimaced through the pain. Hell of a time to get hit. Almost had the bastards nailed to the wall. He heard the firing and tried to track it to the left. The escaped Chinese might have circled around and hit them.
Mahanani slid to the ground beside Murdock.
“Shoulder, I hear?”
Murdock nodded.
“Not the best, Skipper. Can you raise your arm?”
“Yeah, some.”
“How high?”
“Got it almost to my shoulder once.”
The machine guns rattled again. Mahanani dropped down on top of Murdock as the slugs went zinging over their heads. He got up and pulled Murdock by the left arm farther into the shadows of some brush.
“DeWitt, where are you?” Murdock asked his lip mike.
“At the Chinese bodies. Have them all tied up. Heard the automatic fire. We’ll come up in the brush fringe on the north. How is the shoulder?”
“Not good. You’ve got the con. The attackers might be the two we flushed into the brush before.”
“We’ll get them. You take it easy.”
Lam and Karl ran past where Murdock and Mahanani lay, then dove into the edge of the brush. All firing had stopped.
“Lam, can you find me?” DeWitt asked.
“We’re on the north side brush, forty yards from the tents. The bodies are about sixty yards east of us.”
“Hang there, we’re moving up,” DeWitt said.
Five minutes later the SEALs had joined up.
“Some Chinkos over on the right fired again,” Lam said. “The hostages are out of the tent, so no worry on the twenties. I’d suggest a few rounds into that area, JG.”
DeWitt nodded in the pale moonlight. “Give us a twenty burst to sight in on,” the JG said.
Lam sent one round into the trees where he figured the Chinese might be.
At once he took small-arms fire from fifty feet farther to the right. Six SEAL weapons opened up on the new firing point. Four twenty rounds burst in the trees and brush, and the other weapons riddled the area with two hundred rounds.
“Hold fire,” DeWitt bellowed.
“I’ll check them out,” Lam said.
“No,” DeWitt countered. “You’ve been on point too much tonight. Canzoneri and Train, work up there but stay out of our sight lines. See what you can find. We’ll cover you if they fire.”
Canzoneri and Train vanished into the brush and worked forward.
“Mahanani, how is our leader?” DeWitt asked on the Motorola.
“Took a serious hit on the top front of his shoulder. Might have broken some bones or at least cut up some tendons and muscle. He won’t be shooting much the rest of the night.”
“Get him in a safe place.”
“Chrissakes, I can talk, JG. Just a little shoulder ding. Yeah, we’re moving over into the woods out of sight at least. I’m kicking the sawbones back to you. He stopped the bleeding and bandaged my damn arm so I can barely move it. I think he wants to be a veterinarian.”
“We’re checking out the last fight,” DeWitt said. “Might have nailed those last four who got away.”
“Why would they come back?”
“Honor, to save face. Where else can they go? Damn long swim back home.”
Lam came on the net. “Skipper, we hear movement. We’re maybe twenty yards from the site and we hear one, maybe two men taking off through the brush.”
“Go after them. Use the twenty whenever you get a shot. Nail the last of the bastards and let’s get off this damn mountain.”
“We’re moving, Skip.”
“Thanks for giving me the con,” DeWitt said.
“Yeah, sorry. Old habits.”